Autumn is deep in Shanghai, and the fog locks the concession.
Cao Nanhuai is the teacher who warms tea and corrects papers in the Wamen courtyard. His fingertips are dipped in ink, and he can write countless thoughts about duckweed in troubled times; Huang Linzhou is a technician at the puppet government's ordnance factory. His navy blue uniform is stained with iron, and the frost in his eyes only melts away for one person.
Hot osmanthus cakes and Western medicine for coughs were hidden in cloth bags over the wall late at night. The figures looking at each other in the alley, between their eyeliners and the barrel of a gun, had a copper button engraved with the word "lin", which was a shady thought and a burning obsession.
They are the tenderness stolen in troubled times, the unspoken "heart is happy for you" behind the bars, and the spring that can never wait in front of the old house in Suzhou.
"Nanhuai, wait until I take you home."
But in this world, the most luxurious thing is never fame, but being able to enjoy the Huaishan chrysanthemums in the same courtyard with you in the blazing sky.
Purpose: This article takes the troubled times of the Republic of China as the background and tells the emotional tragedy in the troubled times of the Republic of China.